


These Hot Days, Is The Mad Blood Stirring

by louare



Category: Super Paper Mario (Game)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, M/M, blacksmith o'chunks, blumiere looks human, if she can kick your ass she can kick blumiere's ass, o'chunks leave your sister alone, o'chunks threatens his former boss, timpani is o'chunks' sister au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 05:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15503634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louare/pseuds/louare
Summary: When Timpani takes her new boyfriend to the Harvest Festival, O'Chunks finds himself worried, to say the least. He decides to make sure this city boy won't hurt his sister- no matter what it takes.- - -“Anything wrong?” Fionn said, a rare note of concern playing on his face.“Timpani,” O’Chunks muttered.“But I saw her a couple minutes ago, pulling around some...” Fionn trailed off as he observed the growing glower on his friend’s face. “Oh.”- - -





	These Hot Days, Is The Mad Blood Stirring

**Author's Note:**

> this is something i wrote from my au where O'Chunks is a blacksmith, and timpani is his sister! they,,, have a rivalry, to say the least.  
> Fionn is my version of the traitor.  
> Blumiere has been disguised for the festival! i described him, but he just looks like himself, but a human.

As the sun rose, stretching its long arms across the plains, its bright beams touched the wall surrounding a small town, shining on the first small booth that had been built in the village square. At the first touch of dawn, the square was empty, save for vendors, but as the morning drew on, it filled with squealing children, bachelors and young ladies alike; old maids and expectant mothers, and fathers and workers that hemmed and hummed with the shopkeepers over their prices.

The Harvest Festival had begun.

Fionn and O’Chunks had set up the blacksmith booth early that morning, lined with tools, jewelry, and a small selection of weapons. As the morning began to melt, and there was a small break in customers, O’Chunks leaned back on his heels and sighed.

“I need to go get Ma and Tip before it gets too late.”

Fionn raised an eyebrow. “With this many people?”

O’Chunks shrugged, and shot a smile at a passing grandmother. “I have teh get them here ‘fore noon, or Ma’ll have my head.”

“You’re going to have to stay a little longer,” Fionn said, irritation coloring his tone.” I can’t handle the booth by myself.”

“I know, but…” His eyes flitted across the crowd until they caught sight of a scruffy black head. “Matty!” The boys head swiveled to him. “C’mere!”

Beside him, Fionn groaned as the boy squeezed through the crowd.

“You can’t do this to me,” He said. “That kid-“

“Be nice,” O’Chunks said, as Matty pushed his way through and stumbled out of the thrall of people, catching himself on the counter. He was almost a head above it now, O’Chunks noticed, last year he hadn’t been able to reach it at all.

“Mr. Chunks sir?” The boy questioned, looking up at the towering man.

“Chunks,” Fionn hissed under his breath, “I really don’t want-“

“‘Ey there Matty,” O’Chunks said loudly, patting the boy on the shoulder, “ow’d yeh like to stay here and help Finny with teh shop?”

“Don’t call me that.”

Matty glanced at Fionn, then back at O’Chunks, his blue eyes wide. “I’d love to sir, but, I don’t think Mr. Fionn wants me.”

O’Chunks looked at Fionn. ”Of course ‘e’d love to ‘ave your ‘elp,” he said, a warning tone in his voice. ”Wouldn’t yeh?”

Fionn exhaled, and forced out through gritted teeth, “I’d love you have your help, Matthew.”

“There yeh go,” O’Chunks muttered. “See?” he said to Matty.

“If Mr. Fionn’s okay with it.” The boy said doubtfully.

Fionn only grunted and turned away, greeting a young lady eyeing the assortment of daggers.

“I’ll be back soon,” O’Chunks said, grabbing his cloak as Matthew darted to Fionn’s elbow. “Both of yeh, behave.”

“See you Mr. Chunks!” Matty called, throwing a smile over his shoulder.

As promised, John the innkeeper had Leo harnessed to the wagon, with the horse and cart waiting for him in front of the inn barn, just outside the village walls. Hay bales had been placed in the back box, and a bouquet of wild flowers rested on the front seat. O’Chunks shook his head as he saw it; John had a crush on Timpani since they were kids, though she never encouraged it.

 He wouldn’t have minded John as a brother in law, but O’Chunks knew the man would never get Timpani to settle for him. She was a wild spirit, and John just wasn’t strong enough for her.

Still, he let the bouquet lie as he climbed to the front seat, and kicked Leo into a trot as they turned into the woods. The dense trees stood like waving arms around the path. Before long, he reached the fork in the road, and turned left. Right was a three days journey to Farrow, a larger city where they went for supplies- Left was home.

After several minutes down the well-trodden path, the bright roof of the cottage came into view. O’Chunks spotted the pale pink of Ma’s dress swaying with breeze on the front porch.

Beside her, a dark-haired man in a blue suit stood with his hands in his pockets, watching O’Chunks ride closer. He was young, O’Chunks saw, too young to be Ma’s new fling. She was already seeing someone in town anyway.

He swung the wagon so it rolled right in front of the porch steps, and after halting Leo, climbed down from the seat. He stopped at the bottom of the front steps.

“I cleaned yeh clothes and pressed ‘em. T’ere on yeh bed.” Ma said

O’Chunks nodded, not taking his eyes off the stranger, who was growing more and more nervous under his gaze.  

“Stop it,” Ma said sharply. “He doesn’t mean anything,” she said aside to the stranger. “O’Chunks, this is Timpani’s date.”

“My name is Blumiere,” The man said, shifting to lean on his other foot. His accent was foreign, but he seemed well-spoken. “I’m from Farrow, down the road.”

“I see,” O’Chunks said, and climbed the steps.

On level ground, the difference in their heights were extreme;  Blumiere’s gaze widened as it crawled up O’Chunks’ barrel chest to finally meet his eyes a foot above him.  

“O’Chunks,” Ma said, exasperated.

At that moment, the front door burst open, and Timpani stormed out. She was dressed well, looking a far cry cleaner than usual, with a flowing gown and blue ribbons in her hair- a blue that matched Blumiere’s suit, O’Chunks noticed, his scowl deepening.

Blumiere sighed, a smile blooming on his face. “You’re beautiful, darling,” he murmured.

She only spared him a quick grin before turning on her brother. “O’Chunks,  you leave ‘im alone,” She hissed.

“Where’d you find this one?” O’Chunks shot. “’aven’t seen ‘im around before-“

“It’s none of your business!” 

She drew back, as if to lunge at him, but he knew she wouldn’t tackle him, not with the way she was dressed up-

“Both of you, stop it,“ Ma cut in, stepping between them. ”O’Chunks, go and get dressed.” O’Chunks didn’t move. “Now!” With a smirk, Timpani stepped aside to let him pass. O’Chunks glared at her, then at Blumiere, and after a pointed look from Ma he stomped inside.

His suit was freshly pressed and cleaned in the wardrobe, and his good boots were sitting shined under the bed. After he dressed, he went back out to the porch and frowned; Timpani and the date were already in the wagon, sitting close together. As he watched, Blumiere took her hand and whispered something in her ear, and Timpani laughed, genuine and full.

“Timpani found her a city man,” Ma commented, stepping beside him. He held out his arm for her to lean on as they descended the steps.

‘I don’t trus’ ‘im,” O’Chunks said.

“She could’ve found a prince and you wouldn’t like him,” Ma scolded, “Give ‘im a chance.”

O’Chunks watched his sister lean very close to the stranger’s ear, whispering before backing away with a smirk. He narrowed his eyes at Blumiere’s blush.

“Come on,” Ma said, yanking at his arm. “Leave ‘em be and let’s get a move on.”

He helped her into the front seat, and set Leo off on a faster-than-normal trot onto the path.

 - - -

By the time they arrived back at the village, the sun was high overhead, and O’Chunks’ face was dark. Even as he pulled the wagon up near the inn he could hear the soft murmurs of love from behind him.  He helped Ma down from the front seat, and when he turned his head, he saw Timpani and her love already hurrying towards the village square, hands entwined.

“What’ll yeh be doin’?” Ma asked him as he began unhooking the wagon.

“I’ll put ‘im up,” He said, patting Leo’s neck,” And t’en I’ll be at the booth all day.”

“Don’t bother your sister,” Ma cautioned. “Let ‘er ‘ave fun. I don’t want to see you near ‘er today.”

“Aye,” O’Chunks agreed. It wasn’t Timpani he had to corner.

After a last, warning pause, Ma said, “I’m going teh find Lydia. I’ll get yeh somet’in’.”

O’Chunks grunted, and busied himself with leading Leo to the paddock by the barn. Ma watched him a few moments more, before finally turning and heading off towards the square.

He pitched hay, filled the water trough, and after hanging up the saddle, he brushed Leo’s coat, smoothing out the burrs and snarls. Finally, his anger burned down to a manageable level, and with a final sigh, he put away the brush, and walked over the worn road towards the village gate.

The square was still swarming, but the crowds were shifting as the lunch hour drew close. He ducked behind the carpenter’s table and navigated towards his own. Fionn and Matty were tending to only a few customers, but they each held their battle scars; Matty was panting from running back and forth within the confined space, subject to Fionn’s snapping orders, and Fionn had a permanent scowl etched into his face. O’Chunks couldn’t even bother to reprimand the man, only sliding up behind him and taking the money as Fionn sold a fine comb.

“It took you long enough,” Fionn hissed under his breath, “I saw your mother ages ago- where were you?”

O’Chunks shook his head, and turned his attention to Alex, pondering over a new scythe. An easy sale, as O’Chunks knew his current one was worn out, and as the man walked away he turned with a sigh to Matthew, at his elbow, per usual.

“T’ank yeh fer ‘elping out, Matty,” O’Chunks said, forcing a smile. “‘Ere.” He placed a few coins in the boys hand. “Git yerself some sweets.”

Matty beamed and hugged him around the waist, though it was more around the knees, and then bounded out into the crowd, towards his mother’s booth.

“Anything wrong?” Fionn said, a rare note of concern playing on his face.

“Timpani,” O’Chunks muttered.

“But I saw her a couple minutes ago, pulling around some...” Fionn trailed off as he observed the growing glower on his friend’s face. “Oh.”

“I don’ trust ‘im,” He admitted, leaning against the counter. A few customers browsed from a distance, the hot sun beaming overhead drew most of the crowd away from the booths, and into tree’s shade for rest and a spot of lunch.  “I don’t know who ‘e is, and where Timp met ‘im. Of course, she’s threatenin’ me to stay away- And even Ma’s against meh, tellin’ me to leave ‘im alone too.”

“What’s so bad about him?” Fionn questioned. “From my glance, he seemed like a well-to-do gentleman, perhaps even some rich man’s son. And they seem very much infatuated with each other as well.”

“So what if ‘e is?” O’Chunks snarled, “I won’t ‘ave some city boy plyin’ Timp for a quick lay.”

“Ah. You don’t trust her.”

“Of course I do,” O’Chunks sighed. “It’s...”

“You’ve come back with enough bruises, I believe, to prove Timpani can take care of herself, “ Fionn pointed out. “Even if that’s all the boy is looking for, she can very well put him in his place.”

“I know,” O’Chunks said.

His eyes, which had been scanning the retreating crowds, finally caught sight of the couple, browsing a booth across the square. Timpani held up one of Lydia’s sweets for Blumiere to inspect.  His eyes narrowed as Blumiere, under Timpani’s prodding, took a hesitant bite.

“I just don’t want ‘er to ‘ave to.”

Fionn shook his head. “Sometimes, you can be just absolutely unreasonable.”

 - - -

They shared a quick lunch in the booth, and after the heat had passed, business picked up and the two went back to work.

Closer to sunset, O’Chunks went around and helped some of the other villagers in lighting torches for the night. In the middle of the square, the carpenters began to set up a wide, wooden platform, over a foot off the ground and sturdy, for its quick assembly. One either side of the platform, two metal braziers were placed- O’Chunks and Fionn’s contribution. When the logs were stacked and lit, the fire bloomed like pillars of sunlight towards the sky, bathing the platform in flickering yellow light.

When everything was prepared, the band began to set up their instruments.

“Better pack up,” O’Chunks said to Fionn as he got back to the booth. Many of the other shopkeepers had already done the same, save for the food vendors. When the real celebrations started, not even the greediest-Fionn, O’Chunks thought- wanted to miss out.

They packed their little stock and hurried it to the shop. As they rejoined the crowd on the square, the lead singer raised her hand for silence, and the band poised itself to play.

Simon had died last spring, but his son, Michael, had taken up the reigns and could play the violin like he had been born with it in his hands. Tobias and Trinity, twins, were on the harps, and their sister played the bagpipes on the opposite side. Finally, Alyssn stood center stage, both arms raised to the heavens, as she began to sing.

Her voice was fine and tenor, like a pane of glass but clearer. As she sang a song of beginnings, the pairs began marching forward, their offerings held high in their arms. O’Chunks usually participated in the ritual, but this year he had sacrificed his spot for another. In the last pair, side-by-side with his mother, Matty beamed as he tottered along with his gift.

Each person held a basket of some sort, each overflowing with a bounty of the land. Vegetables, fruit, and even home-crafted dishes- the pairs marched forwards, around ten in all. The only sound was the song, a strain of adulation, of thanks, and of promises for a better harvest, mixed with the rhythmic pounding of footsteps on the hard earth.

Without stopping their steady march, the pairs separated, and as they passed each slid their bounties into the metal braziers. A sweet smell began to float through the air. As the last pair marched past and threw their offerings into the blaze, Alyssn’s voice trickled down from its euphoric high, and the violin creaked out its last note into the fading light.

After a few aching moments of silence, the band kicked up a faster tune, and the crowd cheered: The offerings to the gods were finished, and now the celebration could begin.

O’Chunks clapped and yelled with the rest, and searched the crowd. Across the square, Timpani was pulling a protesting Blumiere up from a bench.  She was laughing, and after they began dancing, Blumiere was laughing too; he was a terrible dancer, stepping on her toes and tripping on every step.

“You are absolutely ridiculous,” Fionn’s voice cut through. O’Chunks only glanced at him as he leaned his head against his arm. “All I’ve seen you do is stare at them all day. Haven’t we been over this?” Seeing O’Chunks not paying attention, he reached up and firmly tugged on his beard, eliciting a grunt.

“Look at me,” Fionn said, and waited until O’Chunks turned to him. “Timpani can take care of herself. She will _kill_ you if she knows you’ve been acting like this. Not to mention, you’ve been talking about this festival for months. Are you really going to waste the night worrying?”

Yes, O’Chunks thought, when it involves my _sister,_ but he knew that’s not what Fionn wanted to hear.

“Yer right,” he said out loud. “Yer right.”

“As always,” Fionn said with a sigh and a smile. “Come on, let’s dance.”

He took the man’s hand as it was offered, and they danced to the lively tune, but even as O’Chunks spun and stepped to the music, his eyes never ventured far from Timpani and her suitor.

After a few songs, O’Chunks feigned exhaustion, and passed Fionn off to another. Escaping the crowds was no easy task, but eventually he was pushed out and found himself by the city gates. There was a bench set underneath a nearby tree, but O’Chunks could see a figure sitting on ground, one of the gate columns set to his back. As he got closer, the light flickered across a familiar face: John the innkeep.

“John,” He said in a loud voice, “How are yeh? Why aren’t yeh celebratin’?”

“O’Chunks,” John muttered, not looking up.  

O’Chunks took a seat on the ground next to him and patted him on the shoulder. “Go on now, tell me what’s troublin’ yeh.”

“Yeh can’t ‘elp me none,” John said, “It’s _‘er._ ”

“Timpani?”

“Aye,” John said, and sighed, rubbing at his face. “I was too late. I didn’t do enough, maybe I jus’ didn’t want it ‘ard enough. I…”

“Let me tell you somethin’,“ O’Chunks started, thinking quickly, “Jus’ between teh two of us,” He leaned in. “I don’t t’ink Timp is as interested as she’s pretendin’.”

John looked up. O’Chunks almost felt bad at the hope on his face. “Yeh don’t?”

“Nae, I think she’s gonna let ‘im down easy at teh end of the night,” O’Chunks said, “Least, that’s what she told me.”

He paused, and John straightened, pushing the hair out of his eyes.

“If yeh want, yeh can go over t’ere,” O’Chunks pointed the couple out at the edge of the crowd, “and ask teh speak teh her for a moment. Take ‘er to my shop if yeh’d like, it’s private enough, and while yeh talkin’ to ‘er, I’ll take care of that boy.”

“You’d do t’at?” John said, a grin on his face.

“For a friend? Aye.” O’Chunks lifted himself off the ground, brushing the dirt from his pants and then helped up John. “Go over t’ere now, if yeh want, and ask ‘er to come to meh shop. I’ll take care of ‘er date.”

John shook his hand, then marched over to where Blumiere was still stumbling over his own feet. O’Chunks ducked behind a tree and watched. John walked up and spoke to Timpani, she said something back, and John tilted his head in his sort of pleading way. O’Chunks could almost hear him. _‘Please? I just want to ask something, please if you would…’_

Timpani sighed, and said something to Blumiere, who looked confused. After a few more words, the city-man finally stepped back, and though Timpani looked annoyed, she followed John as he pushed through the crowd, heading towards the blacksmith’s shop. All the way across the square, O’Chunks thought, and a little out of the way, too. John will confess, Timpani will reject him, and by the time John got done begging and pleading....

He should have plenty of time to do what he needed.

As Blumiere was looking after the two walking away, O’Chunks strode over and snatched him by the arm, nearly jerking him to the ground. Before he could protest, O’Chunks was already dragging him, and it was all Blumiere could do to keep on his feet.

“Let go of me!” he cried, and his frantic eyes looked around desperately for assistance, but no one stopped them. O’Chunks yanked him along, ignoring every shout as they went out the city gates, away from the crowds, and away from any witnesses.

As the sounds of the square faded Blumiere’s struggles only became more frantic; when he scratched at the iron hand, O’Chunks grunted and threw him into the barn. Blumiere landed on rough dirt and scrambled back O’Chunks stopped to fill the doorway.

The animals had already been put away for the night, and the sounds of their sleep filled the barn. The music was long in the distance. O’Chunks lit a lantern to see by, and slowly slid the door shut, cutting off the music completely. The only sound was the animals, and Blumiere’s heavy breathing.

After hanging the lantern on its hook, O’Chunks turned to the boy, who had positioned himself against the wall at the back of the barn, still on the ground.

“Relax,” he said, “I’m not goin’ tah ‘urt you.”

“If you weren’t going to hurt me, then why did you bring me here?”

O’Chunks dipped his head. ”Fair enough.” he said, and then started forward. “I meant to say, I”m not goin’ tah ‘urt yeh, _much._ ”

Blumiere tensed as he came near, but O’Chunks only grabbed the front of his fine shirt and set him back on his feet. He brushed off the man’s clothes, and slapped at the hay that had settled in his hair.

“So,” he said. Blumiere pressed himself against the wall as O’Chunks looked down at him, his broad shoulders casting a wide shadow. “Let’s talk about Timpani.”

“I’m not out to hurt her-” Blumiere started, and flinched as O’Chunks laughed.

“Oh I’m not scared of t’at lad,” He said. “You couldn’t ‘urt ‘er like that if you tried. She’d send ya whimperin’ wit’ yeh tail between yeh legs. She’s put me in my place more times than I can count. “ He leaned in close, towering over the wide-eyed man. “But yer the first boy I’ve ever seen ‘er take interest in. T’e first she’s even taken out like t’is.”

Blumiere’s voice was less than a whisper. “I wouldn’t-”

“I don’t care,” O’Chunks said firmly. “I”m jus’ warnin’ yeh now; if yeh dare ‘urt me sis like t’at, I’m goin’ tah come after yeh.” He grabbed the front of the man’s shirt and jerked him off the ground, staring hard into his blue eyes. “And I’m gonna ‘urt yeh. An’ then I’ll let Timpani go at yeh.”

Blumiere swallowed. O’Chunks could feel a faint tremble under his fist.

“I understand,” he whispered.

O’Chunks dropped him, and he fell back to the ground with a thump. “Good,” O’Chunks said. “I glad we came teh an understandin’. Now, yeh not goin’ teh tell Timpani about t’is, aye?”

Blumiere looked up at the broad-shouldered giant standing above him, and chose wisely. “Of course not. I-I wouldn’t dream of it.”

O’Chunks smiled. “Glad we could come teh an understandin’.”

On his way out, O’Chunks blew it the lamp, leaving Blumiere lying on the dirty ground in the dark. He found Fionn, and bought a few sweets for him from Lydia’s booth. After eating, they rejoined the crowd to dance. It was still early into the night, and the festival would go on for many hours yet. O’Chunks intended to enjoy every last moment.

Curiously, he didn’t bother to check on the couple for the rest of the night.

 - - -

It felt like minutes, but hours later, with the fires dying and the moon high in the sky, the Harvest Festival ended. People had begun to leave long before, but now that band had finished, the stragglers began to disperse, heading back to where their welcoming beds waited.

Fionn stumbled off in the direction of the shop, while O’Chunks collected Ma from her partner and headed towards the barn. Timpani and Blumiere were already waiting for them. Timpani only smiled sleepily at him, and when O’Chunks cast his gaze to Blumiere, the man was looking back with a neutral expression. An understanding passed between them as they locked eyes.

Later, as he lead Leo into a gentle walk towards the cottage, he couldn’t help but glance behind him, and saw the two asleep, heads lolling with the cart, leaning against each other.

O’Chunks turned back to the road and shook his head. That boy better follow his warning, he thought, because if not, he’d have to hurt the poor thing.

He glanced to Ma, who was giving him a stern look, as if knowing what he was thinking. O’Chunks turned back to the road, a smile blooming on his lips.

If, he thought, only if. Above, the night breeze rattled the green branches of the trees; in its whisper, O’Chunks could still hear the faint hum of a love song, as he trotted the cart onward, to bed, to home.

**Author's Note:**

> it took me a while to finally finish this fic- if i've left out anything, or made anything unclear, feel free to tell me, and i'll fix it!


End file.
